


The Artist and the Pauper

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [11]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Imagination, M/M, Public Masturbation, Sex Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 09:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3564431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji talks to Captain Otoribashi about what he's hoping to give Byakuya for his birthday.  Meanwhile, Byakuya gets some startling information out of Lord Isoroku....</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Artist and the Pauper

Kira led Renji deeper inside the Third Division than Renji had ever ventured before.

Ichimaru had kept the place closed off and isolated, so Renji had never noticed how unusual and beautiful the buildings and grounds were. The architecture had an eclectic mix of traditional and Western. The main building had been built in a large square, with a courtyard in the center. Though there was all the usual rice paper and tatami, there was something about the way it was built that reminded Renji of Academy or Ichigo’s high school. He couldn’t even quite put his finger on why, except that maybe it was the simple detail of the fact that the hallways were in the center and rooms went off in either direction… and the overhead electric lights.

Kira noticed Renji staring at the ceiling and nodded, “I don’t think any other Division has them. Except maybe the Twelfth. No one knows who introduced them, though I think it might have been Ōtoribashi during his last tenure here. He and his friend Captain Hirako are very… modern.” Kira said ‘modern’ like it was a disease you might accidentally catch.

“It’s a good idea,” Renji said. “Lanterns are a pain. I got to assign some noob the job every damn day.”

“Generators can be, too,” Kira said. “We have to import gasoline from the human world. That gets expensive. Plus when parts break or wear out….” He just shook his head sadly.

Stopping at a door, Kira slid it open for Renji. “You can wait here. I’ll get the captain.”

The hallway had been eerily empty, and Renji suddenly felt self-conscious about the hour…. And his rather awkward, private mission that Kira hadn’t even asked about. Though, really, it couldn’t be much past the dinner hour, could it? “Am I interrupting dinner or… some routine? Where is everyone?”

Kira blushed. “We run a skeleton crew at night. We’ve been… chronically understaffed since…”

Ichimaru’s betrayal. 

“Right,” Renji said quickly. He supposed that on top of that there were a lot of questions regarding exactly what kind of person Ōtoribashi was to have been outlawed and then suddenly reinstated. Rumors must have followed his arrival, too, about the Hollow-like mask and the term ‘Vizard.’ Unlike most, Renji had had plenty of time to get use to it. Anyway, it was impossible to be afraid of anything Ichigo wielded with such power and confidence. But, the rank-and-file hadn’t seen any of that in action; didn’t trust Ichigo implicitly.

Plus, Renji knew the truth that most shinigami ignored: Any of us from the Rukongai with power have Hollow in us already. The Vizards just wear theirs on the outside.

Having condensed all these thought to a single phrase, Renji said, “People are stupid.”

Kira’s normally sad face brightened momentarily, like he understood all that Renji had meant. Then, he nodded. “I’ll be right back,” Kira said as he slipped through an interior door.

Renji had his choice of a pile of za button pillows near a low, tea table in one corner of the room or a brown couch and overstuffed chair. Since the pillows looked like they existed purely for the stuffy, traditional guests, Renji removed Zabimaru from his obi and took the couch. The couch’s springs creaked as Renji lowered himself into it, but the cushions were comfortable enough. He laid Zabimaru across his lap. An end table had Human World Magazines—something called Guitar World and Rolling Stone.

Renji was flipping through Rolling Stone when Captain Rōjūrō “Rose” Ōtoribashi came in. His appearance had changed since Renji had last caught sight of the elusive Vizards in the human world.

He’d cut his long, blond waves down to more of a shag that fell to his shoulders. Still, tall and thin, Rose’s expression was a strange combination of ‘already bored with you’ and ‘how very interesting.’

Scrambling to his feet, holding Zabimaru like a practice sword, Renji bowed. Not sure if he needed to introduce himself, he blurted, “I have an awkward, personal favor to ask of you, Captain Ōtoribashi.”

A ghost of a smile flicked across Rose’s lips as he sank into the overstuffed chair across from the couch. “You’re in luck. I love awkward, personal favors, Lieutenant. Do tell.”

Renji stood for a moment not sure if he should sit, until Rose lazily indicated that he should relax. Perching on the edge of the couch Renji clasped his hands on Zabimaru’s sheath, where it lay across his knees. Bowing his head to hide his embarrassment he said, “Kūkaku Shiba told me that you might be a kinbakushi. I was hoping I could convince you to tie me up for as a gift to my…”—oh, shit, what did he call Byakuya?—“…um, …lover, for his birthday.”

Rose regarded Renji for a long time. That weird half-smirk was as hard to read as any of Byakuya’s blank expressions. Finally, Rose asked, “Have you been ‘um, lovers’ with this person for very long?”

Renji tried to remember. He scratched behind his ear, calculating. “Has it been a year? Not yet, if you count our first date as the Hanami.”

“And you can’t say ‘lover’ yet?”

The door slid open and Kira came in with a tea tray. 

“It’s complicated,” Renji admitted. 

Kira looked around for a place to set the tray, and, instantly, Rose jumped up to take the end table from beside the couch and set it in the space between them. He took the tray from Kira with a kind and solicitous, “Sit, sit, I’ll take care of this. You’re my adjutant, not my servant.”

Kira looked both baffled and grateful. He shuffled aside to stand next to Renji, while Rose fussed with the sake. “Complicated, how?” When the captain noticed the two of them still standing nearly at attention, he said, “Sit!”

Renji gave Kira a little smile. Renji liked this new captain of his, who instantly seemed more grounded in the real world and, more, well… ‘human’ than Ichimaru ever had. 

“I’m dating Byakuya Kuchiki,” Renji said. “He’s my captain. He’s so prickly about the casual use of his name that I called him ‘taicho’ in bed until really recently. So, yeah, it’s not easy for me to say boyfriend or lover.”

“Oh, kinky!” Rose said appreciatively as he sat back down in the overstuffed chair. Stretching over to the table, he helped himself to a bowl, which he filled with sake from the bottle Kira had brought on the tray. Seeing the captain help himself, Renji did the same. Kira followed suit, seeming both uncomfortable and charmed by the informality of it all.

“Yeah, very,” Renji agreed. He glanced over at Kira, hoping none of this was too awkward for his friend to hear. “Thing is, Byakuya is learning kinbaku for us, but we haven’t tried anything too complicated yet. I thought, maybe, it’d be a nice gift, you know, me wrapped up all nice and… um, gift-y.”

Rose sat back languidly and regarded Renji over the rim of his sake bowl. There was something of a predatory bird in his posture or maybe it was his gaze, steady, unblinking, and penetrating. But, Renji was no mouse. In fact, he could feel the nue straightening his shoulders, lifting his head, and staring back just as steady and alien. A challenging bellow and rattling hiss echoed in Renji’s inner ear.

This made Rose smile slightly, lifting the corners of his mouth. “You’re okay with being naked in front of me?” Rose asked casually. “With me touching you? Would your ‘um, lover’ be? Is this Captain Kuchiki the jealous sort?”

“Oh,” Renji hadn’t thought about that last bit. He took a swig of the sake. It was light and fruity, though it tasted mass produced, like it could have come from the Human World. “Uh, well, normally Byakuya is very jealous, but I think only in the traditional way, if you know what I mean. I think he’d make an exception for kink. We’ve talked about a threesome.” Renji suddenly realized how that sounded and nearly choked on the sake he’d sipped, “Not that I’m asking you to do… uh, that, just, uh… the tying up and that.”

Rose didn’t help. He just sat back and listened to Renji flounder and sipped his sake. A wordless, eerie song hung on the edge of Renji’s consciousness, something he felt he should know, but didn’t quite. There was more thoughtful regarding from Rose before he asked: “When is the captain’s birthday?”

“Tomorrow,” Renji said, cringing a little, realizing how much of an imposition all this was. “Look, I can’t really pay you, well, at all, really, but I could offer some kind of trade, maybe...?”

Rose waved that thought away distastefully.

“I am an Artist, Lieutenant Abarai.” That seemed to be the end of it; it was decided. “Now,” he said, leaning over to refill the bowl Renji didn’t remember finishing off and topping off Kira’s as well. “You must give me a list of the things you think your captain would enjoy.”

Renji could feel his nose getting red, but he said, “I might have been thinking about this a little. I have some ideas….”

#

After dinner was finished and he had spent an appropriate amount of time asking after the lives and health of his relatives, Byakuya slipped out of the estate and made his way over to the Fourth Division. There were no gate guards at the Fourth. The gates, as usual, and despite the hour, were wide open and welcoming. A young officer in a nurse uniform greeted Byakuya with a smile and a low, respectful bow. “How can we help you tonight, Captain Kuchiki?”

“Can you tell me where Lord Isoroku Takenaka is being kept? Is he still in your care or has he been transferred elsewhere?”

She blinked in confusion as she flipped through the clipboard she held. “He’s a patient?”

“He’s a prisoner.”

“Oh. Him,” she said with a look of horror. Byakuya doubted there were many prisoners kept at the Fourth on any kind of regular basis. “Yes, he’s still with us. Please follow me.”

Isoroku was in the same place he had been before: a cell that was an offshoot of the main trauma ward. The nurse made up a version of ‘Shitsureishimasu’ before sliding aside the curtain.

Isoroku was a wreck. If he’d bathed at all during his internment, he didn’t look as though he had. Pink hair hung in limp clumps. Dark brown hair had sprouted on his chin. Dark rings encircled his eyes, as though bruised from lack of sleep. He sat on his cot with his back to the wall. He hugged his bare legs; the yukata he wore, not quite long enough to cover them and preserve his modesty. “Have you come to mock me, Byakuya?”

Why did both he and his wife assume such behavior of him? “Not at all. I’ve come with a mutually beneficial proposal.” Before Isoroku could protest, Byakuya forged forward. “I will pay for your release and any other debts you owe; you and your wife will leave immediately and not bother Renji or I ever again.”

Isoroku went very still. He seemed to be waiting, anxiously for more. When Byakuya added nothing, Isoroku slowly uncurled his legs. His whole body seemed to unwind. “You… you would pay my debts as well? All of them? Why? Why would you do this?”

I’m sick to death of this whole thing and I want it to disappear, Byakuya thought but couldn’t quite say. 

Unexpectedly, Isoroku began to cry.

Twice in so many hours, Byakuya stood before a weeping Takenaka, uncertain what had prompted this outburst.

“I don’t deserve your friendship,” Isoroku said between sobs. “I… I’m such a horrible man! I never… that is, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Your man, he was supposed to capitulate or fight me. Either way, it was meant to be him here, behind bars. I should have known better than to believe what she said about him. Or to sell myself for so little! She would only promise a few million! And, I should have known it would backfire. Already, from our first meeting, I’d sensed your Renji was too honorable a man—“

“She?” Byakuya cut off Isoroku’s undecipherable, weepy babble. “What are you talking about? ‘She’ who?”

Isoroku briefly looked caught out, but then he took in a ragged breath and shifted his shoulders. “Your lady aunt Masama. She found out about my… situation after the wedding and told me she would help if… I did this thing for her.”

This thing?

“Aunt Masama bribed you to attack Renji?”

“Seduce,” Isoroku corrected as though affronted. Then, he seemed to have a change of heart and his shoulders slumped. “No, I shouldn’t defend any part of it; the whole plan was stupid. When I told her that there was no guarantee I was your Renji’s type—in fact, there was a very strong possibility that I was the exact opposite of the thing he’d want. And, so then, she… she mentioned his temper and how easily he might be manipulated, given his… class situation in your household.”

Byakuya had heard quite enough. In fact, if he heard any more, his rising reiatsu might give away just exactly how furious he was.

But the true target of his anger was not here.

The previous doubts Byakuya had had about paying for Isoroku’s release had evaporated. Knowing Aunt Masama was behind this horrific scenario, didn’t quite absolve Isoroku of all wrongdoing, but it came very, very close. “You must curtail your gambling or whatever it is that has brought your finances to such a state,” Byakuya admonished. “Or you will forever be at the mercy of old, evil women.”

Isoroku blushed and looked on the verge of tears again. “Yes.” He shifted to his knees suddenly, and it seemed as though Isoroku might start apologizing.

Byakuya was not ready to forgive him, so he turned away. Over his shoulder he said, “I will arrange things so that you will be free this evening. I want you out of my house before dawn.”

As he walked away, Byakuya thought he heard Isoroku mutter, “Happy birthday.”

#

When he left Kira and Captain Ōtoribashi, Renji had a raging hard on. Stupid hakama made it obvious to anyone looking, too. Renji had tried to cover the evidence while they were talking, but Rose just smiled indulgently and made some comment about enthusiasm or responsiveness or art appreciation—or maybe all three. Renji wasn’t entirely sure. He’d been far too embarrassed to hear properly.

Renji certainly wasn’t going to try shunpo in this condition, but walking was no better. 

Just his luck, there was some kind of neighborhood celebration going on around the Third. The streets were clogged with people in bright yukata. Lanterns hung everywhere, making the night streets glow warmly. There were a few food vendors set up, but most of the activity seemed to be inside the various taverns. Signs everywhere pointed to competing musical events and cheap beer.

Renji grumbled to himself as he limped along awkwardly, feeling every rub of silk against his painfully stiff cock. He never used to be like this. This was all Byakuya’s fault. Imagination had never been Renji’s strong suit in the past. Oh, he got called inventive, but that was mostly past adventurousness masquerading as cleverness. He’d always been a sensual guy—if he saw it, smelled it, tasted it, or heard it, yeah, sure that’d get him going. But just thinking about it? Nope. Not before Byakuya.

Hell, even though he tried, couldn’t play pretend to save his soul. Gods forbid anyone ask him to talk dirty or “sext” like Ichigo’s friends were into. No way. He was too straightforward for that. Rukia was good at that sort of thing; Renji had always been jealous. It made him a crap flirter; he knew that. But, then again, he’d always preferred the direct “do you wanna?” anyway.

However, his powers of imagination had apparently grown exponentially. Renji didn’t think he’d ever before ‘thought’ himself into an erection.

It was a shame he couldn’t just un-think it. Especially with all these people around. He’d glanced down a few likely alleyways only to find couples pressed up against the walls, trying to find private spaces of their own.

Shit, that meant Renji was going to have to find a public toilet or some other private spot, because this ridiculous thing was getting stiffer by the second. Walking was an exercise in torture and he couldn’t entire banish all the images that had come up, as it were, in the discussion with Rose.

And Kira.

How could Renji forget Kira, normally so proper, offering suggestions that made Renji’s cheeks burn and his cock twitch. Damn it. There was a reason Kira would have made an excellent threesome choice back in the day.

Too bad he was clearly smitten with, if not already taken by, his new captain. And for once the feeling seemed to be mutual. Good for them. Hopefully they were making out like animals right now, like Renji wanted to be, but crap if Byakuya wasn’t halfway across the damn Seireitei. 

Renji was going to have to take care of this on his own.

Finally spotting signs that suggested a public toilet might be nearby, Renji changed course and headed for them. The neighborhood looked upscale enough that he might actually find a semi-private stall-type toilet. Around the Eleventh ‘public toilet’ sometimes meant nothing more than a bucket set into the ground at the end of a dead ended alleyway—the kind of place where you either brought-your-own-toilet-paper, or were prepared to deal with chūgai, ass-wiping wooden sticks most people just called ‘shit spatulas.’ The only time in his life that Renji felt the Rukongai had it better was when he’d been desperate enough to use one of those. Because, fuck damn, you could shit in the bushes in Inuzuri and _at least_ have leaves to clean off with!

But, all Renji needed right now was a little privacy and, by the hot, distracting feel of things in his pants, a few minutes alone, if that.

Holding his breath for the smell, Renji pushed open the first available stall. There were five of them in a tight row. They were only nominally ‘stalls,’ since they were nothing more than waist-high wooden boxes that shielded a long, shallow trench dug in the ground. Two flat planks, shoulder-distance apart, straddled the shallow pit. To one side was a bucket of grimy water, ostensibly for hand washing, though Renji figured you’d come out the poorer end of that deal, and that disgusting implement, the chūgai. 

He kicked off his waraji and stepped onto the plank. Even though it was dark, he should probably make like he was using this thing properly. Byakuya would fucking kill him if he got arrested for public indecency and behavior unbecoming an officer the night before the big birthday. Bracing one arm against the wall to steady himself, Renji hiked up the leg of his hakama. He was just about to reach in when he realized he was too tall for this position. Maybe if he was really just going to take a piss, he could get away with it, but not with everything standing at attention, as it were. The thought of trying to jack off while squatting over a trench full of shit seemed too dangerous. Renji’s balance was always good and learning to ride Hihio Zabimaru made him a master of some tricky acts of balance, but it was way too easy to imagine what could happen if he got really distracted during the big moment.

Glancing around, Renji could easily see that the other stalls were empty. The light from the busy Seireitei street only penetrated this far end of the alley as mere flickering shadows. Good enough for government work, he decided. Hunching over a little, he went for it. 

Oh gods, it felt good to get his hands on the prize, as it were. All that talk about ropes and what Byakuya might do had driven him half out of his mind. And, as crappy as Renji was with imagination, Rose seemed to be the opposite. Renji could almost feel the kinbaku ropes tightening around each body part as Rose described it. Then, imagining being left like that in a state of arousal waiting for Byakuya to come into the room and see him….

Renji pressed his forehead into the forearm he had braced on the wall. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning. He picked up the pace, trying not to rock his hips too obviously. 

It was weird, the fantasy that kept spinning out in Renji’s head, too, because it was nothing he thought he’d ever want for real: Byakuya, not happy to find him like that at all, but, instead, deeply jealous. Then things turned dark and violent and hard and painful and…

Oh gods! 

His wad shot out in a long, hot, ropy splatter against the wall.

Renji was trembling against the wall, trying to catch his breath, when he heard a rowdy clattering of feet followed by an unmistakably violent thunder of reiatsu.

The Eleventh.

Sure enough, Renji just had enough time to shake himself off and drop his pants before guys from his former regiment took up the stalls on either side: Ikkaku to the left and Yumichika to the right. Renji thought he had problems, but the Kenpachi was so tall that there was no not seeing… too much of everything. In a second, everyone seemed to let loose on cue and there was the sound of a thousand waterfalls. Renji quickly averted his eyes. Ikkaku noticed his movement. “Oi, Abarai, what you doing here?”

“I tagged along, remember,” came a voice further down. Seichi.

Could this night get any more awkward?

“Not you, you moron,” Ikkaku shouted, turning to face Seichi and, from the sounds of things, spattering the boards with his stream, “The other Abarai.”

“Abarai,” Kenpachi said, glancing around over the heads of the rest of the troop as if trying to spot someone. “Where’s your better half?”

“I’m on my own,” Renji said distractedly. The guy standing behind waiting to use the stall Renji occupied was doing the “gotta go” dance, but Renji was checking out the wall trying to see if anyone could notice in the dark. It didn’t help that there was a still stringy ooze dripping off the advertisement for an herbal remedy for baldness. 

“Cripes, would you hurry up?” Dancing guy begged.

He was going to notice; there was nothing for it. Renji backed off the planks and stepped into his sandals. As he did, an idea came to him. He bent down to pretend to wash his hands but mostly splashed water around, hoping to make it look generally disgusting and less… specifically so.

When Renji glanced up to see if anyone was paying attention to him, he met the very knowing smirk of one Yumichika Ayasegawa. “When you have to go, you have to go, right, Abarai?”

Renji was glad for the darkness. It hid his blush. “Right,” he muttered. Quickly, Renji stood up to let the next guy in. He tried not to act like he was fleeing as he elbowed his way through the mob of Eleventh. He was almost free and clear when a hand caught his sleeve. 

It was Seichi, “Aren’t you even going to say hello?”

They were nearly at the edge of the alley and the lanterns hanging above the shops illuminated Seichi’s face. He’s gone without a bandana and the kanji tattoo reading “Dog” was a black slash on his forehead. Dishwater blonde dreadlocks looked better maintained than they ever had, however, and Renji was surprised by how much Seichi had filled out his shihakushō. 

“Hey,” Renji punched Seichi’s shoulder lightly. “Looking good, you. They’ve been feeding you three squares, I see.”

“Yeah,” Seichi smiled. “And I’ve been practicing every day, like you said.”

Oh, shit. Renji had promised to help with that. “Hey, I’m sorry I…”

Just then a shout came up from the bathroom stalls. “Oh my god, you disgusting pig! Is this your fucking cum?! Buddha’s Balls! What the actual fuck!”

“It wasn’t me…” the guy who’d been doing the potty dance protested, but he made the mistake of sounding defensive instead of belligerent. In Eleventh speak, you might as well just have admitted guilt.

Predictably, a punch got thrown. At least that’s what Renji figured as the whole of the back alley erupted into chaos. Kenpachi strode confidently around the bodies, Ikkaku and Yumichika flanking him. His arms caught up Renji and Seichi and propelled them out into the street. “We might as well get another drink in while we wait for that lot to sort their shit out,” Kenpachi proclaimed. “You’re buying, Abarai.”

Renji hoped Kenpachi meant Seichi; they wouldn’t be getting far on the nothing he had.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, hey, and I just realized that it's Rose's birthday today. Happy birthday to him (and coincidentally his first appearance in my fic.) And, thanks should go as always to Josey who checks my spelling and reads all my Muse's weird turns without much complaint (except where deserved). Thanks!


End file.
